


You Are My Family, Too

by stephswims



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephswims/pseuds/stephswims
Summary: Throw back to season 2.  Takes place after 2x07 State v. Queen. The Count takes Felicity, and Oliver saves her.  Then, everyone goes home, but there is nothing at home for Felicity.





	You Are My Family, Too

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_“I need to meet my family at home, so you guys go home. Get rest,” Oliver said tiredly as he shook Diggle’s hand. Diggle left as Oliver took a step towards Felicity._

  
_“Goodnight,” he said with a small smile._

  
_“Goodnight.” Felicity’s voice was quiet._

  
_“Oliver,” she called to stop him from leaving. He turned back towards her. “I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you.”_

_“Yeah,” he nodded, turning to leave._

  
_“And I’m sorry.” That got his attention._

  
_His eyebrows furrowed, as he took a step towards her. “For what?” he asked._

  
_“I got myself into trouble again, and you…killed him. You killed again, and I’m sorry that I was the one to put you in a position where you had to make that kind of choice.”_

_“Felicity,” he replied softly as he squeezed her hand gently, “He had you, and he was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make.”_

_*****_

With that, Oliver left, and it was just Felicity. She turned back to her computers, just staring at them for a moment. She wasn’t ready to go home. She walked slowly to her chair, holding the blanket tighter around her until she sat down. She pushed her glasses further up her nose, slipped out of her flats, and started playing some light classical music. It was a guilty pleasure of hers that she did whenever she was alone and needed comfort. She started typing quickly, running diagnostics on her systems and queuing up firewall checks and routine maintenance.

  
She leaned back into her chair when she was done. The music was still playing quietly in the background, but it was too quiet for her. She should go home, but she knew it would be just as quiet. She looked down at her dress and felt dirty. She left her shoes and the blanket at her workstation and headed to the shower. She grabbed her spare clothes from the bag she left here for emergencies and took one of Oliver’s shirts. She of course had her own, but she needed comfort tonight and allowed it this one time. She would wash it and have it back before Oliver would notice.

  
She turned the shower as hot as it would go and slid out of her clothes. She ran her hand through her ponytail, recalling the way the Count played with her hair, causing herself to shiver. She definitely would not be wearing ponytails for a while. She let the hot water roll of her body until she couldn’t feel her skin, and then she started scrubbing with the bar of soap until her skin was raw. She continued to stand under the water, letting it wash the soap away, until it turned cold, pelting her raw skin. She was lingering. She didn’t want to go home. She could tell herself it was because she just lived through a traumatic experience. She was kidnapped, almost injected with Vertigo, and she watched a man die in front of her. That was a lie though. She knew she didn’t want to go home because there was no one there. She felt less lonely with her systems that Oliver’s money bought than she would at home with her laptop and tablet.

  
She forced herself to dry off and dress. She looked at her pink dress sitting on the sink. When she put it on this morning, she felt pretty and powerful, but now it just made her feel dirty. She dropped it into the trash on the way out.

  
She didn’t turn off her music because that would require going back to her workstation where she would find an excuse to stay, and she didn’t turn out the lights because she couldn’t face the dark.

  
*****

  
“Felicity,” Oliver called as he jogged down the steps. He had expected her to be at her workstation. She typically worked late into the night, but she wasn’t there tonight. He quickly did a loop, worry rising as his senses took in the lights and soft music. He noticed pink in the trash can and picked her dress out of it. He dropped it back in with a huff, kicking himself. He never should have left her alone.

  
*****

  
Felicity looked at her clock as she sunk into her couch again with another cup of coffee. 2:30 am. The coffee probably wasn’t helping, but she couldn’t sleep, and her favorite beverage brought her some comfort. Every light was on in her apartment. Her old school stereo system from her college days was playing more classical music, and her TV was on a low volume. She was still in her yoga pants and Oliver’s shirt, but she put a cardigan on and wrapped a blanket around her legs. Tonight was all about comfort. She took a sip of coffee and ran her hands through her hair. She didn’t even know where her hair tie was, and she didn’t think she would be looking for it for a while.  
She put her mug on the side table and slinked further into her blanket. She idly watched the Harry Potter marathon without really watching or listening until she heard a knock on her door. She stood up quickly, knocking the blanket to floor, breathing heavy. 2:57. Who would be knocking on her door at this hour? She took a deep breath to calm herself.

  
“Felicity, it’s me, Oliver,” Oliver yelled through the door with another knock. She released her breath and rushed to the door.

  
“Oliver, what are you doing here?” Felicity questioned as she opened the door. “I mean not that you’re not welcome here. You can come anytime you want.” Oliver smirked at her small ramble and innuendo, causing Felicity’s eyes to go widen. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to save herself, “I’m going to stop talking now.”

  
“Felicity, may I come in?” Oliver asked softly. He wanted to reach out and touch her. It was the only way he would be able to determine if she was ok. He could see her and hear her, but he needed to touch her. He held back, putting her needs above his. He didn’t want to spook her.

  
“Of course,” Felicity replied opening her door. Oliver had never been to Felicity’s house before. He noticed the bright paint and curtains, the numerous throw pillows and plants. He also noticed the lights in what he assumed were her bathroom and bedroom were also on and the stereo and TV was on.

  
“Hey, are you ok?” He asked softly, turning towards her.

  
“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be ok?” Oliver smirked again. He knew that tone. She delivered it with the perfect amount of sarcasm, but he had known her for almost two years.

  
“Felicity.” The way that Oliver said her name should be illegal. He pronounced every syllable like he was savoring each one on his tongue.

  
“I’m fine,” Felicity replied giving Oliver a tight smile.

  
“I’m sorry, Felicity,” Oliver said gently as he put his hands in his pockets. The urge to reach out and touch her was still too strong.

  
“For what?” Felicity asked incredulously.

  
“I should have been there today.” Oliver looked down at his feet, and Felicity knew what he was saying without him having to say the words. He was sorry for not being there to help her and Dig go after the Count, and he was sorry for not being with her afterwards. She gave him her famous head tilt, letting him know effectively that she thought he was being ridiculous. They have played this game numerous times before: Oliver blaming himself for things he had no control over, and Felicity easing his worries away. This time was different though. This time he wasn’t there for Felicity, one of his best friends, the woman he depended on to keep him safe, to keep him sane.

  
Felicity took his arm and led him to the couch. She took another sip of coffee.

  
“Oliver, you have nothing to be sorry for. You need to be there for your family right now.” Felicity squeezed his arm.

  
“Felicity, you are my family, too,” Oliver confessed as he grabbed her hand, “I wanted to make sure you were ok. I…needed to make sure you were ok.”

  
“Thank you,” she said softly leaning into Oliver as he wrapped his arm around her. He started rubbing the hem of her shirt between his thumb and index finger.

  
“Hey, is this a new shirt?” he asked cheekily.


End file.
